


Merry Christmas, Baby

by dollylux



Series: Fic Advent Calendar 2014: Brothers, Soulmates, and Other Such Sexiness [6]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Music, Curtain Fic, Domestic, Enticement into the Holiday Spirit by Sexy Underwear, Gift Giving, M/M, Schmoop, Sneaky Decorating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 11:32:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2730899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollylux/pseuds/dollylux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared is super, super stoked about Christmas this year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Merry Christmas, Baby

**Author's Note:**

> Day six of my fic advent calendar. Prompt: (too) early Christmas. 
> 
> Hanson reference = pure indulgence for me, a hardcore Hanson fan for 17 years. Happy sigh. <3
> 
> Also please forgive the EXTREME FLUFF OF THIS dear god what has happened to me.

There’s a reindeer on the nightstand, right next to the one-use-away-from-being-empty tube of lube. 

A reindeer. 

Tiny and made of wood and missing a little scrawny stick leg and staring at Jensen with its beady little eyes.

“Jared,” he groans, reaching over blindly to grab Jared’s abandoned pillow and pull it over his head, shielding himself from the sun and life in general and the goddamn reindeer watching him expectantly.

There’s a shuffle at the doorway.

“Yeah, babe?”

“Reindeer.”

Jared pauses, doesn’t say anything, and Jensen waits patiently under the safety of his borrowed pillow-prison.

“...Yeah?”

“It’s November, Jared.”

“Well.” He can picture Jared, knows that he’s got his head down like a little boy, staring at his socked feet, that his bottom lip is out. Jensen sighs. “Yeah.”

“It’s November _first_ , Jared.”

“Well, yeah Jen, but--”

“I still have a Halloween-themed buttplug in my ass. Right now.”

“But Jen, he’s--”

“Jared.”

“Fine,” Jared sighs, moving closer, the pout completely audible now. He hears the tiny scrap of wood on wood and then Jared retreating, and then quiet. He waits. “Okay, he’s gone.”

“And where did he go?”

“To my nightstand.”

 _Choose your battles_ , Jensen hears in his mind, in his mother’s voice. He pulls the pillow away from his head and sits up, his hair sticking up absolutely everywhere, his eyes bleary with sleep, his ass sore from… well. Jared.

“Come kiss me and tell me if I still taste like candy corn.”

 

Over the next few days, little things appear around the house: An elf on the toilet paper holder, a Santa Claus magnet eye level on the fridge, a two-foot tall snowman on the mantel of the fireplace, little stick-on snowflakes on all the windows. Jensen grits his teeth, glares at each object to the fullest extent of his ability, and he lets it go.

 

He gets in his car one morning to head to work and finds a little bouquet of candy canes tied with a red bow on his seat with a little card tucked into it: _You make every day feel like Christmas morning. Hope you have a good day at work. I love you! -J_

He unwraps a candy cane while waiting in traffic on the interstate, sniffing at it suspiciously before sticking it in his mouth. Mmm. Sugar.

Okay, so maybe this weird Christmas thing isn’t all bad.

 

It’s unseasonably warm in the middle of November, so they decide to go for a hike and a picnic one Sunday. Jensen takes the drive up and Jared’ll take the drive back, like they usually do, and Jared mans the stereo.

He’s playing his usual stuff, Pearl Jam and Radiohead and Our Lady of Peace and the occasional Jon Secada song and the expected “Green Eyes” by Coldplay that Jared mumbles along to into Jensen’s shoulder and gets all sweet and teary-eyed over. Jensen is holding on tight to his hand, pressing a kiss to Jared’s knuckles while Jared kisses his jaw when the song starts up, a jaunty piano breaking their lovey-dovey silence.

The song sounds familiar, the feeling that comes over him similar to the way that your eye twitches when a certain person you particularly despise is mentioned.

“Jay, what is this?”

“Oh, it’s just, uh,” Jared mumbles, somehow expecting Jensen to just accept that as a full answer.

_Merry Christmas, baby! Sure do treat me nice._

He shoots a razor-edged glare over at Jared, squinting at him suspiciously.

“I know this song. Dude, I know this song. Who is this?”

Jared’s eyes are big and young-looking in that way that shows off the beautiful shape of them and also shows what an innocent puppy he can look like. Fortunately for Jensen, he can see right through it.

“It’s just--”

“Is… is this Hanson!?”

“Jensen, just give it a chance!”

“Mac used to have this CD!” He sounds accusatory, like Jared totally stole Mac’s Hanson Christmas CD and ruined her young life.

“It’s a good album!”

“You are making me listen to a motherfucking Hanson Christmas song in 75 degree weather?!”

“No, I’m not! Because you’re talking right through it and yelling at me.” Jared ducks his head, that damn hangdog look that Jensen melts over and Jared knows it. Jensen grits his teeth. Maybe holds onto Jared’s hand a little too hard.

“Really, Jay? _Hanson_?” Jensen is dangerously close to whining, his shoulders drawing in a little. He’s dangerously close to defeat.

“They’re good. And I like ‘em, so.” Jared strokes his thumb over the back of Jensen’s hand, and Jensen sighs. Loudly.

“So, we’re gonna do this, huh? Gonna listen to _Snowed In_?”

Jared glances over for that, a grin stretching across his face.

“You know the name of the album,” Jared swoons, leaning over and snuggling his face into Jensen’s neck, and Jensen’s face flushes, shoulder lifting to try and half-heartedly shrug Jared off. They both know it’s for show.

“You can start the song over if you want, I guess.” Jensen tenses his jaw, drawing his bottom lip into his mouth and holding onto it while Jared starts the song over gleefully. It’s going to take everything in Jensen not to sing along.

 

Jensen heads upstairs one night after they have dinner with Gen and her new girlfriend, stripping as he goes, all his clothes gathered in his hand by the time he reaches their bedroom. He tosses them in the hamper and starts to head over to the dresser, but something unfamiliar sitting at the foot of the bed makes him pause.

He looks over, an eyebrow lifting when he realizes what it is. 

A present.

A little red box with a big white bow that looks like real silk, the tag on it reading _To my husband_ in Jared’s sloping, graceful script. 

“Hon?” 

“Yeah?” Jared’s voice echoes up the stairs from the kitchen where he’s feeding Sadie.

“This for me?”

A short, amused laugh drifts upstairs, and it makes Jensen smirk as he saunters toward the bed, goosebumps flying over his naked ass.

“No, babe. It’s for my other husband. You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“I always ruin surprises, don’t I?” He picks the box up, giving it the expected shake and not getting any immediate clues as to its contents. He gathers the bow in his fingers and tugs, letting it slip away and down onto the bed.

Like Jensen’s gonna turn down a present.

He pulls the lid off and pushes aside the green tissue paper. It’s something tiny and velvet and green. And red. With a bow.

He narrows his eyes at it.

Whatever it is, it’s Christmasy. 

“Jay,” he says warningly toward the open door, hesitating for a few seconds, but curiosity finally gets the better of him. He reaches in and pulls the item in question out, and his eyes fly open wide when they unfold.

They’re underwear.

Tiny, tiny velvet, forest green boxer briefs with a red satin ribbon stitched onto it to make them look like a wrapped gift with a bow right over his dick. 

Turning his package into a package. Heh.

He doesn’t realize how red his cheeks are when he clears his throat, turning them this way and that in his hands before he finally just shrugs, stepping back from the bed and slipping them on, up over his bowed legs and onto his body. A red strip of satin runs straight up the crack of his ass, putting the little bubble of it on even more of a display, which Jared, of course, thought of already, has probably already jerked off to the thought of Jensen wearing this, for whatever reason. This new Christmas fetish of his.

He puts the box on top of the dresser before crawling up onto their California King bed, shuffling up until he’s leaning back against the pillows. He brings the silk ribbon from the gift up over his eyes, tying it loosely in a bow at the back of his head. He relaxes back and waits for his husband.

There are worse things in the world to be given four days before Thanksgiving.

 

The evening of Thanksgiving, Jensen is curled up on the couch, half sleeping and half watching the Cowboys get their asses beat, Sadie warming his feet. He hears a slow, trying-to-be-quiet scrape from the attic. He cracks an eye open, squinting at the ceiling.

This goes on for twenty minutes, shuffling and dragging and dropping, and Jensen waits it out, is too warm and comfy on the couch to get up unless he hears Jared yelp or fall or something.

He might even doze off.

“Jen?”

Jensen cracks an eye.

Jared is standing in front of him, dressed, an old flannel shirt on over his t-shirt, keys dangling from his fingers.

“Where you goin’? Will you get some more lube?” Jensen turns over on the couch, pulling the blanket around him up higher on his shoulder.

Jared frowns. “Are we really out of lube again?”

Jensen shrugs, letting his eyes fall closed again. “Hey, ‘s your fault. You’re the one who bought the underwear.”

“Listen, uh. I wanna go run an errand. Will you come with me?”

“Jaaaay,” Jensen whines, turning over on his back and rubbing hard at his eyes as he yawns his most pathetic yawn. “It’s Thanksgiving. Nothing’s open. We have leftovers and firewood and some sample packs of that Boy Butter stuff we’ve been wanting to try anyway. There’s seriously nothing outside that we _need_ today. Right?”

“I just…” Jared falls quiet long enough for Jensen to open his eyes again, to pay attention this time. “I just want you to come with me. Please?”

Jensen doesn’t sigh because he can tell by how nervous Jared is, by the way he’s shifting from foot to foot and not meeting his eyes that Jared won’t be amused by any dramatics. So he simply waits a couple of beats, steeling himself for getting out of his warm little bubble, and sits up.

“Alright, Jay. Lemme go get dressed.”

 

They drive past the Target and the Whole Foods _and_ the Walgreen’s, and Jensen watches each one pass with growing confusion. They leave city limits and head out to where it starts to look pretty and spacious and no other cars are on the road, everyone else tucked up at home still eating and watching the Cowboys lose and having sex, like normal people. 

When Jensen sees the first cow, he turns to Jared, his voice coming out in a rush from where he’s been holding in his concerns.

“Dude, cows, why are there cows, where are we--”

A sign comes into view then in perfect comedic timing, a giant, hand-painted sign reading _CHRISTMAS TREE FARM 1 MI_ with an arrow pointing. And Jared turns at the arrow.

“You have got to be f--”

“Just go with me on this, Jensen. Okay? Please?”

Jared reaches over for Jensen’s hand, lacing their fingers together tight and holding on. Jensen looks down at their joined hands, at Jared’s glinting wedding band, his frown deepening with each passing second.

“You’re. You’re not, like.” Jensen licks his lips, turning his attention to his husband now. “Jay, you’re not dying, right? God, please--”

“No! Ohmygod, _no_. Babe.” Jared slows down so he can turn to Jensen quickly and press a kiss to his tense mouth, and just like that, Jensen can breathe again.

“Okay. Jesus. And, uh. You didn’t join the army or something, right? You aren’t being deployed or drafted or--”

“There is no draft, Jen.”

Jensen’s eyes fly open wide.

“So, you’re--”

“No! I didn’t join the army!”

“Oh. Okay.” Jensen’s heart is racing now, horrible, nightmare scenarios flooding his overactive brain. “You aren’t leaving me, are you? Going to live on a Christmas tree farm with a boy who will dress up like an elf for you all year round?”

They turn into said Christmas tree farm, and Jared’s laughter fills the truck, his smile threatening to eclipse the sun. He brings Jensen’s hand up and kisses across his knuckles before turning it over and kissing the center of his palm. He turns the truck off and climbs out.

They walk around and meet at the front of the truck, and Jared’s smile is soft now. He reaches for Jensen’s hand. 

“Cmon, love.”

 

Jensen does not get Christmas tree farms. They all look the damn same, every tree exactly like the one next to it exactly like the one next to _it_ and so on, and so he doesn’t know why people have to go shopping for Christmas trees in the first place. The way he sees it, someone should invent some kind of Christmas tree Pez dispenser-type thing where you put your credit card in and it pops a tree out, already bundled up and ready to stick on top of your car so you can look like a jackass driving home in the most convenient way possible. 

He’s about to look over and tell his million-dollar idea to Jared, but the look on Jared’s face makes him stop. He’s starry-eyed and far away, looking at the trees like they’re already decorated and covered in snow, and Jensen softens then, glancing back around, trying to see the magic that Jared sees.

“You know what you’re looking for?” He gives Jared’s hand a squeeze and starts to examine the trees in earnest, critiquing them all as he passes, none of them good enough for Jared, as far as Jensen can see. Too skinny, too bare, too fat, too tall. Nope, nope, nope, nope.

“I want you to pick,” Jared says quietly, glancing over at Jensen with the sweetest, most enigmatic little smile on his face. Jensen’s pulse kicks up, his chest tightening the way it does every damn time Jared looks at him, the way he has for the past nine years. He moves to walk a little closer to him, his grip firm on Jared’s hand.

“Um. I don’t… I mean, I can try.” Jensen squints at the trees, wishing he’d brought his glasses, falling quiet for a long time while they just walk through the lines of them, row after row, nobody here but them and the old couple working at the little store right at the entrance. It’s actually pretty romantic, the quiet, the clean smell of pine (in the pretty humid, Texas air), their hands laced, Jared’s flip-flops flipping, one of the most strangely comforting sounds in Jensen’s world.

“That one,” he says finally, bringing them to a stop in front of a particular tree, the only one so far to meet all of his requirements for a tree good enough for his baby. He looks over to Jared to catch his reaction, and he’s heartened by the big grin on Jared’s face.

“Number seven ninety-eight. Awesome. Let’s go tell ‘em.”

They start toward the front, following the signs but they’re moving slowly, in no particular hurry to get back. The sun is sinking lower, the sky darkening even as they walk. They’re both off tomorrow, absolutely no plans to venture out on Black Friday, and neither of them have to show their faces at work until Monday. Jensen finds himself smiling just because his life is pretty fucking amazing.

“I wonder if we can find the boxes of our decorations,” he wonders out loud, resting his cheek on Jared’s shoulder and letting his eyes slip closed. “I love that little cotton ball snowman you made in the first grade.”

“I, um. Already brought it all down from the attic. It’s waitin’ in the hallway for us when we get home.”

Jensen lifts his head, opening his eyes to smirk at him.

“I knew you were up to somethin’.”

“You’re so smart. Like the _Great Mouse Detective._ ”

“Can I ask you something, Jay?”

“Hmm?” Jared’s lips press warm and slow against Jensen’s temple, and he gives Jared’s hand a squeeze.

“Why are you so gung-ho about Christmas this year? I mean, I know you like it and all, I just. You’ve never been, you know. _This_ excited about it.”

Jared doesn’t respond right away, just lifts one of his shoulders in a shrug that tells Jensen that there’s a reason rumbling around in his chest, behind the lips that Jared is chewing on fitfully, so Jensen just waits him out.

“I just… um. There’s... “ Jared slows them to a stop and turns toward Jensen, gathering up both of Jensen’s hands in his own. Jensen sucks in a quick breath, his heart rate kicking up.

“You can’t propose to me, Jared. You know that, right? You already did that six years ago.”

Jared gives a breath of a laugh, one that seems to relax him some, which is exactly what Jensen needed to relax himself. He steps in closer but keeps hold of Jared’s hands, searching those eyes that are wide and nervous and looking right back at him.

“I wanted this year to be special. To be… I mean, we always do Christmas, and we have fun and watch _Christmas Vacation_ and drink eggnog with our rum and all that, but this year, I dunno. I wanted _you_ to get excited about it, too. I wanted to start, like. Traditions. You know? Real traditions. Our own family traditions.”

Jensen nods slowly, gathering all that information up and not finding anything crazy or unreasonable there. He can totally do that. “But why this year? What’s so special about it?”

“Because next year, I kind of hope that maybe we can have a kid that we can share our traditions with.” Jared’s voice is softer than Jensen’s ever heard it, lullaby-soft, and they’re chest to chest, Jared’s heart pounding against Jensen’s ribcage. Jensen just stares at him, his lips parted, his eyes bright with surprise.

“You… you.” Jensen’s heart kicks up even faster, the possibility of what Jared’s saying, the life-altering fact of it stuns Jensen. Makes him realize with a start how fucking much he wants it, a family with Jared, to be a father with Jared, to watch Jared with a kid that’s theirs. To raise someone they can both teach and love and share their lives with. He’s breathing harder, tears rising up in his eyes, his hands shaking in Jared’s grip. “You do?”

Jared nods, his chin trembling, both of them beyond speaking now. He’s untangling their hands and cupping Jensen’s face, and Jensen can only nod with him, can only breathe a shaky _yes_ against Jared’s mouth before Jared kisses him, licking into him with joyful overwhelm.

“But. But, wait,” Jensen mumbles against his lips, breaking the kiss to pull back enough to meet Jared’s eyes. “Jay, I don’t know if I want to get pregnant right now. I mean, have you seen my stomach? I look _good_ right now and--”

Jared grins, pulling Jensen back in hard against him, reaching out to sink his teeth into his bottom lip and tug on it.

“Shut up, Jen.”

Jensen lifts up and kisses Jared’s beauty mark, smiling there against it as his eyes fall closed.

“Love you, Jared.”

“Love you more.”

"Love you most."

"Love you mostest."

**Author's Note:**

> The undies in question, just by the way: http://www.abcunderwear.com/boxer-brief-present.html
> 
> <33


End file.
